


After The Fall

by TheTentacleCommander



Series: The Devil's Saga series extras [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Crack, Biting, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood and Violence, Bloodlust, Bondage, Choking, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, Dark Crack, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, Dream Sex, F/M, Fear Play, Fridge Horror, Guro, Horror, Lust Murder, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Menstruation, Menstruation Kink, Murder Kink, Old work, One Shot, One of My Favorites, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Predator/Prey, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reluctant Sadist, Ryona, Scent Kink, Side Story, Size Difference, Size Kink, Some Plot, Squick, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacles, Teratophilia, Vaginal Sex, What-If, drool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 21:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTentacleCommander/pseuds/TheTentacleCommander
Summary: What if the reverse happened in the White Room and Jill did not fend Nemesis off? Fap fodder/nightmare fuel for in heat!Nemmy (basically a NE-T Tyrant going into lusty berserk). -All The Squick, then edgeplay? You have been warned.-Song inspiration: Chelsea Wolfe - After The FallThe lovely pic was drawn byMarukanitel<3





	After The Fall

Song inspiration: [Chelsea Wolfe - After The Fall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mj7gv__Ubs)

X........................................................

He gives the illusion of giving

She takes never expecting

Him to stake claim at the very end

X

 

 _Don't touch me…_  
  
Her soft hands held him, those hands that merely wanted him to look at her. But looking, just looking was making things hard to ignore. Her scent, her closeness – he shouldn't…  
  
_I want to behave…_  
  
Her face…it draws him more and more, it hurts so badly. The confusion in her eyes, the lines blur … _is she a nurse_? The female, why is she backing away? The noise isn't screaming, it's quiet…oh so quiet. This can't be wrong if the noise is gone. Right?  
  
But she's backing away. She's never backed from him, not like this. Even at the creek she wasn't as skittish as now. But her scent, it's everywhere now; it filled the padded room, strangling him.  
  
_I want her. Need her. Doesn't she feel the same? She smells the same…_  
  
He leans against her that flush crossing her cheeks. The flush telling him she understands, knows what he's asking for. He cups her, knowing that humans are so frail, reminding himself to not break her. Telling himself that she must know, must understand, must want this as much as he.  
  
He did not expect her to dodge, did not expect her to fight him. He tried, how he tried to pin her, to keep her down. Her face would sometimes change, from the startled blond to a frightened nurse, a nurse that screamed as he bent her over. A guttural snarl came from him as the female slapped him.  _Why…?_ The blow shocked him, not expecting her to do such a thing. But he had to, had to convince her, this must happen, eye begging.  
  
_She smells so good so ready…_  
  
He pinned her flat, trying to keep her from thrashing, wanting her to calm down even though asking the same from himself was too, too hard… Her leg lifts up, kicking him low. He grunted in pain  _I…I…_ *!* before a sharp prick was felt in his side. But the thin thing did not make it through his leathers, stopping short before piercing through to his hide. As the Tyrant realized what her hand tried to do, he lashed out a tendril roping her offending hand.

That slender hand was shaking as he twisted that tentacle harder; he could feel it, her blood begging to finish its course to her fingers. The thing in that hand had long fell to the floor. He leaned up to her visibly disturbed face. He reached up a hand, that same hand that ripped off the deterrent, to roughly hold her by her pale throat. A sharp turn with that hand, rough but just enough to make her move her head to her left had her face the thing she dropped, it smelling of that cheap, disgraceful liquid.

 _She thinks that low of me._  He snarled low, the high of her scent mixing now with this feeling of pure distrust and resentment. He could only lean into her face, freely drooling dangerously near her face in his frustration. A tentacle lashed out, crushing the syringe of  _Invidia_  into pieces. The smell made his hidden nostrils burn, but it soon faded into the cloth of the padded room leaving only his scent and hers to fester and fill the white box they were entrapped in.

He then tilts that blond's head back,

_I need this, I need her_

_How dare she...how dare she turn me away! Doesn't she get it! She is mine! I made my claim!_

He snaps his teeth near her face, the woman jumping at his action. She had no commands to give, no respect to be had now.

_I can smell...there. The scent is there. So cloying. So sweet. I can taste it on the tongue._

_It's the fear you see. She hid it, kept it from me!_ _**Me** _ _!_

_See...she's no better than them after all. A liar with a trusting face._

That feeling again, that filling, pleasing emotion arrived. It never lead him astray. It never disappointed. He does not like being confused; this makes everything clear.  _Rage ...rage at her weakness, rage at her games, rage at her doing this to him. This is all her doing._  He uses his teeth ripping through her top, finally getting at what she teased him with, punished him with. G _ood boys are rewarded with pain, bad boys are punished with pleasure_.  _Am I a bad boy today? If so, I deserve my punishment._

She struggles harder now; she tries to side swipe him, but there is no way he will let her buck him off, not with her frail human hands. The female did what she felt she could now as she reached up to his face scratching his exposed cheek. A feeble attempt to kick at him had her booted foot land at his shin; not that he felt it nor cared. He was beyond that now. He merely squeezes her throat with one large, meaty hand that near enveloped that small, slender, trembling pile of flesh so that it was as if it wasn't even there. She was trying with much difficulty to hide her erratic breathing. She was fascinating to watch like this; just like this.

For a moment, his eye slit closed as he listened to her breathing, and her struggle to make her throat work. He let his eye roll open again to witness her face turning red from the exertion, the wheezing sounds that came from that throat spurning him on right as he loosened his hand. As she coughed and gasped for more air he filled that mouth with his tongue, intentionally cutting the lip en route.

Blood was a new scent added to the mix in the heady brew that filled the room pushing him near mindlessly in his actions. Everything was washed out in red to him, her his only focus. It didn't matter if he was not behaving, he was in control and that's all that mattered. None of this yelling, or hitting. No more barriers. No more of this fabric.  _No more of her leaving me in here!_

 _She shivers like an animal. So pale. So full of marks. Marks that aren't mine. Her hair is in my fist. I taste blood now. I'm missing steps in my memory but I don't care_ _**I taste her blood and it is divine** _ _. Her skin is a rainbow of colors. Black, yellow, purple - purple like my tendrils. The marks are all mine now, all mine._

_I bent her over, she did not cry. Nothing but silence from her lips and a blankness from her eyes. Blankness as if she knows what is to come. Doesn't she know I need more than that! Give me your fear, give me your tears! My eye narrows; my hands are shaking the nails beds caked in her blood. I don't remember, was that hole in her gut there before? She is trying to limp away, a trail behind her leads from me before she falls like a doll. I simply lash out a tentacle and grab a pale ankle, the flesh slick with sweat and blood pulling what's mine back to me. Silly female. I didn't tell you to leave._

_I lean toward her, licking her face, rubbing my cheek against the bite mark on her shoulder; mine, all mine. I lean against her, my leathers long gone, blood caked all over me like a comforting blanket. I want her again. I need her again. I need her before she grows cold._

_Cold..._

_Something constricts, I feel .... I...feel lost now...she's mine...right...?_

He glances to her blood covered watch before a loud screeching thing rings near his ear holes. He could only squint his eye as it agitated his ear drums.

A blink and it's daybreak. He knows as the rays of the sun and the loud blare of that fucking loud contraption across the room is still going. But he didn't move, letting the smaller, muscular yet slender body to his left slap it silent. A hand that was clearly moving and alive did said motion, only to curl around his sweat laden arm. It took him a longer moment to realize that he was here not there in the White Room the clouds of sleep still faintly in his mind.

It took him less time to feel the hardness between his thighs, and at the ready. If he had been human, such thoughts, he assumed such images would disturb him. Should they? Seeing her death images before horrified him. But these felt different...felt good and powerful. But it didn't matter. She is here, not gone. He pulls down the covers showing her pale body to his eye; aside from the normal love bites and scratches she was still healthy, still alive. I _wouldn't really harm her. I wouldn't! I won't. I'd be lost without her!_

_The dream meant nothing._

And yet, he wanted more than anything to bathe in her blood right then. He could feel every part of him on fire; himself harder than he's ever been. He wanted to fuck her body open and claim her insides as they gave way to him and his strength. That is his right! Every part of her was his and every part of himself was hers after all.

The trail of confused thoughts began to slow as his mate turned, sleep still slowly leaving her features. The blond didn't seem to be aware of his mental war, curling closer to his side. Without a word, he felt her soft lips already at his throat, right at the edge where his skin tore exposing the muscle. That soft mouth parted open letting her tongue and slow languid breathing play along his nape in a alternating pattern. He could only growl, slitting his lone eye closed in contentment as the Tyrant instinctively laid back. Her warm body followed, laying over top of him; he could already smell her ready and eager.

That tongue trailed to his collarbone; in doing so he picked up the sound of the soft swallowing of her throat. He could only seem to focus on that, the way the liquid moved in her throat, the inner muscles, all of it and how such a sound made a part of him tremble. Her scent was becoming thicker, sharper, with the growing accents of copper. He was too lost to care on why that was, only that he was beginning to salivate. He could only lick his teeth, before feeling those soft lips kiss the flats of them in return.

She was writhing against him, clearly knowing how hard he was. It would take no effort on his end to simply slip inside. But he wanted that soft sound her throat made again. He wanted it and a part of him  _needed_  it. But how? It was a different sound, not something one makes when sucking...but by the simple act of...

_That's how._

A small movement was all she could see, before she found herself on her back him following that up by slowly leaning over her. He softly nuzzled that pale neck by pure touch enjoying her soft trembles, right before he slowly opened his lip less mouth enveloping her throat. For a moment, he felt her body stiffen under him. He let his eye slightly slit open, eyeing her face. He wasn't too tightly around her, but his teeth were poised so that at any time he could just simply bite down slicing into that warm pulsing meat. He shuddered along his spine in predatory bliss; his shark like teeth were so close, so poised to utterly rip her throat out and he knew there was nothing she could do to stop him.

What would it be like? Would she taste as warm as always? He can see the faintness of actual worry in those blue eyes; unease even. She was trying of course to hide it, trying to not dare admit this action unnerves.  _No. I mistook her glare. My mate doesn't fear me._  He licks that trapped flesh, her throat, her voice box, her very ability to talk and breathe kept hostage. He could hear her blood coursing in the large vein along her neck.  _I could make all of it spill and paint this bed._   _I can even smell it; this pleases her. See?_ And yet that faint hint of copper is only growing stronger, making his hidden nostrils twitch.

_I can do anything right now. Anything._

He presses his teeth in slow, just a hair scrapping that flesh that he knew would yield to him. Her breathing grew deeper; he could even feel the movement of her throat against his tongue as she nervously gulps each breath. The Tyrant pins her fully down, pressing her down at her hips. Slowly, his hands trail down her thighs before folding her legs in, letting them lean on his shoulders. His thumbs slid back up those legs again while stopping for a long moment, savoring the heady intoxicating scent that was making him shiver and salivate madly. In doing so, his teeth closed in even more, just slightly.

_Beat that small heart for me. Breathe for me. I want it all for just me._

A soft cry rose from that enticing throat as he leans over; the Tyrant slowly fills her letting his nails dig into her thighs. It took all of his will power to not push deeper, reminding himself that he cannot go but so far despite so wanting to,  _needing to, begging to_. But that was okay. He could feel the welts and cuts from her still entrapped throat. Every time he thrust, she arched upwards; the image of her pushing closer into his maw pushed him to drive harder.

He could taste the blood, those small scrapes he made along her skin seeped down her exposed flesh dripping down to his tongue, smearing along his teeth. Her sounds; they are delicious! The low, heady moans she made only told him that  _yes, yes this was good, this was right! This was his by right!_ He's not sure why but everything feels so high, so awash in red. He feels it as his eye rolls to the back of his head as he fills her, she'll follow soon; he can feel her tightening already. If only he could have her throat, have the warm meat that tempted him and sat right within his reach!

Stopping was the farthest thing from his mind as that copper smell seemed to overtake everything now. Slowly he unclenched from her throat only to lick along it as she again did that nervous gulp he adored. He could only languidly look down wanting to glance at them joined before returning to marring that pale skin – only for all at once his mind to painfully clear.

_D-did I hurt her?! No, I didn't I wouldn't!_  Blood was all over the sheets.  _But I didn't bite her that hard!_  Now it was his turn to breathe out of worry. He hesitantly looked towards her, seeing her blue eyes dilated and nearly vacant.  _N-no not like her, not like that!_   _I definitely didn't fuck her that hard...did I?_  He began despite himself to whimper, confused and doubting himself.

A soft hand reaches up, petting him along his staples. He opens his eye that he instinctively screwed shut in panic to see her looking at him with concern. He then looks down again, her following suit. Soft hands pet his left, that fist gripping the sheets. A flustered look crosses her face before saying, “Shush...it's okay. You did nothing wrong...Damnit...I...I'm sorry. Seems nature couldn't wait. You know the drill buddy, a few days and I'll be ready and waiting again.” She rises up, gesturing for him to detach from her. Without hesitation he pulls away from that warmth, but not before she softly pecks him on the cheek. The woman muttered a curse under her breath to herself in agitation as she quickly crawls out of bed rushing to the bathroom.

He looked down at himself, and for a split second the memory of that woman, that nurse flashed before himself. The Tyrant could only angrily growl to himself, him never wanting to wish such a thing on to his mate.  _No, I wouldn't hurt her like that._  
  
...I wouldn't.

**Author's Note:**

> Published on dA in 2015. 
> 
> Was a mirror fic to 'A Mirrored Fall' (she fears losing power, he fears having it) and to definitively answer that, 
> 
> A. no he cannot fit in her fully being a 400+ pound mutant
> 
> B. him in heat is -bad-
> 
> The size difference is so glaring that in fact it was the cause of him 'accidentally' killing someone previously. No magical bags of holding exist in this AU.


End file.
